Though apocryphal, and a spoof, this fiction story is based on my first hand experience about life in the Indian Navy.

I have not seen a similar novel written in India which is set on a warship depicting the excitement and trials and tribulations of naval life.

Most people think that the Navy is like any other “job”.

The Navy is not a Job.

The Navy is a Way of Life.

I want to give my readers an authentic taste of the Naval Life (which we experienced first-hand in the Navy) – at Sea and Ashore – which is quite different from the jingoistic mumbo-jumbo in recruitment advertisements – or – the heroic hogwash exhibited in most action movies or the “Colonel Blimp” or “Captain Haddock” type caricatures shown in Bollywood films.

The protagonist of my novel is Sub-Lieutenant Nobody.

Yes – his name is “Nobody”.

That is why the novel is called NOBODY’S NAVY

This story covers a one year period in the life of Sub-Lieutenant Nobody on board ship.

I intend to write a sequel, maybe a trilogy, or a series of follow-on novels, to cover the hilarious yet poignant adventures of this fictitious naval officer called “Nobody” as he plods his way through Naval Life and progresses through his naval career.

The theme of my novel is simple: “THE NAVY BRINGS OUT THE BEST IN YOU”.

This part was true in my own life – The Navy did bring out the best in me.

More than 6 years years ago – sometime in December 2010 / January 2011 – I prepared a book proposal for my novel which I titled NOBODY’S NAVY.

As per the guidelines given by various reputed publishers – the book proposal comprised a synopsis and three chapters of the novel.

I sent my book proposal to some reputed publishers – one after another.

I was disappointed with the response.

RESPONSES FROM PUBLISHERS

I received four types of responses from publishers on my Novel Proposal:

1. Some publishers did not bother to acknowledge receipt and I heard nothing from them

(Maybe, they dump all “unsolicited” proposals into the slush pile or the waste paper basket)

2. Some publishers sent my proposal back with regrets saying that they were already booked for the next 2 or 3 years with novels lined up for publishing and I should try after that.

3. Some publishers asked me the business prospects of my novel – how was I going to market my book, how many copies would it sell, would I guarantee financial viability.

(Well I do have Management Qualifications – but I specialized in HR – and not in Marketing. Besides – as a creative writer – I thought that my job was to write an engrossing book with Page Turning Quality (PTQ) – and the “business” aspects would be looked after by the publisher)

In the present day scenario of book publishing in India – it seems that self-publishing my novel is the only option left for me – if I wish to publish my novel as a printed book.

Though self publishing may satisfy my vanity – I know now difficult it will be to seamlessly make available the book to maximum readers – since I neither have the skill – nor the wherewithal – to distribute and sell the book by getting it into the bookstores.

I wish to be “Creative Writer”– not a “Marketing Manager”.

I browsed in bookstores in order to ascertain the “market” for novels.

It seems the only fiction books in vogue are “metro reads” (mushy romances) and contrived campus love stories.

I may be wrong – but to me – it seems that present day readers don’t have the inclination nor the appetite to read an authentic “no-holds barred” novel on Navy Life.

I am not going to abort my novel because I have to tell my story.

I have two options before me:

1. The first option is to complete my Novel (despite having no assurance of publication) – and then – spend my time peddling my “unsolicited” manuscript to reputed publishers.

This may turn out to be a very harrowing experience.

It takes a lot of emotional and physical effort to complete a novel – and – after putting in all that effort – I will find it quite humiliating to peddle my manuscript.

So – in order to preserve my dignity and to ensure that my creative work sees the light of day – I may have no option but to self-publish my novel – and undergo the frustration of my book not getting its due appreciation and success because of impediments in distribution and owing to sub-optimal marketing.

2. The second option is to upload my book proposal on my Blog– the synopsis and a few chapters – for everyone to read on my blog.

I think the second option has three advantages.

1. Some readers may give me feedback and tell me if this is a good story which people want to read and how to make it more interesting.

2. Some of my benevolent readers may tell some literary friends of theirs about “Nobody’s Navy”– or they may even refer me to a literary agent – or an editor in a publishing house – and maybe – I would be able to strike a deal.

3. The best thing would be if some reputed publisher reads this story – and makes me an offer that I cannot refuse.

Is anyone interested in publishing my novel NOBODY’S NAVY...?

The synopsis and six chapters of “Nobody’s Navy” are ready.

If you are game (or know a publisher who is interested) – do let me know.

“NOBODY” BECOMES A “SOMEBODY” – A Story from NOBODY’S NAVY By VIKRAM KARVE

How Sub Lieutenant NOBODY became a “Somebody”

Calm Blue Sea – Soft Cool Breeze – Sunset – 31st December 1977.

The lights of Mumbai twinkle in the distance as the city gets ready to ring in the New Year.

It was the happiest moment of his life.

Standing on the bridge-wings of the mighty warship INS Bijlee as she entered Mumbai harbour under his command – for the first time in his life – Sub-Lieutenant Nobody felt as if he was a “somebody”.

At this defining moment of his life – he realized the import of the words the distinguished Admiral had uttered while motivating him to join the Navy while he was studying at IIT.

“Son,” the recruiting Admiral had said, “The Navy is not just another job. The Navy is a way of life.”

Ship life seemed good.

Rank – Spit and Polish – and normal Naval Bullshit – all this did not matter much on a frontline combat ship like INS Bijlee.

Here it was your professional performance that counted.

So everyone was busy doing his job.

As long as you did your job well – you were given a free hand – and – after “secure” was piped – and the day’s work was over – you were free to do what you liked.

Sub-Lieutenant Nobody realized that no one bothered him – since other officers were busy doing their own work and running their departments.

It was much better over here on a combat ship than the Naval Academy – where they treated you like dirt – and tried to convert you into a brainless obedient robot.

And – it was certainly much better than the Naval Technical Officers’ College – which boasted of transforming bright young Engineering Graduates into “Technical Zombies”.

Sub-Lieutenant Nobody had survived both these ordeals and he had still retained his sanity.

It all happened so fast.

Sub-Lieutenant Nobody had arrived in Mumbai Central Railway Station in the morning after a tiresome train journey.

There he was picked up in a ramshackle truck and dumped at the boat jetty.

There the ship’s boat was waiting for him.

After a rough journey on the choppy sea – Sub-Lieutenant Nobody was deposited alongside INS Bijlee anchored far out at sea.

It was almost 12 Noon when he clambered up the accommodation ladder to the quarterdeck of the shipwith his bag hanging on his shoulder.

He duly saluted the Officer of the Day (OOD) and said: “Sub-Lieutenant Nobody reporting for duty, Sir. Request permission to come on board…”

The ship was rolling and the ladder staggered so he held on to a stanchion.

The stanchion gave way – and Sub-Lieutenant Nobody lost his balance – and he crashed into the arms of the OOD – and both of them fell on the deck in a heap.

“Sorry, Sir...” Nobody said – as they gathered themselves up.

“You seem to be quite eager to join this ship. What did you say your name was...?” the OOD – a two stripe Lieutenant asked with a smile.

“My name is “Nobody”...”

“NOBODY...?” the OOD asked, incredulous.

“Sir, it’s an anglicized version of ...”

“Okay. Okay. You can tell me the story later,” the OOD interrupted, “just give me your appointment letter and genform...”

Sub-Lieutenant Nobody said took his appointment letter and genform from his shirt pocket and gave them to the OOD.

The OOD looked at the documents.

“Okay, okay – so you’re the new Electrical Officer (LO)...? Welcome on board,” the OOD shook his hand and said, “I’m the TASO (Torpedo Anti-Submarine Officer). Today is “make and mend”. Captain is not on board. You can meet him tomorrow. The Duty Petty Officer will take you to your cabin. Shower up – change into uniform – and meet me in the wardroom in ten minutes.”

He saw the OOD – the TASO – wearing civvies – sitting at the Bar – sipping a glass of Beer.

“Ah…there you are. I am waiting for you...” the TASO said – the moment he saw the newly arrived Sub-Lieutenant Nobody.

The TASO swallowed his beer in one go – down the hatch.

Then he gave the OOD’s lanyard with a bunch of keys to Sub-Lieutenant Nobody – and he said to Nobody: “Sub-Lieutenant Nobody – you“hold the deck”. I’m off. Don’t bother to see me off. I’ll see you in the morning...”

And – with lightening speed – the TASO disappeared ashore on the liberty boat – even before Nobody could recover his wits.

“Congratulations...” a voice said from behind.

Sub-Lieutenant Nobody turned around to see a Lieutenant Commander sitting on a sofa with a huge tankard of beer before him.

“Thank you, Sir,” the Duty Petty Officer saluted – and he went away quite happy that he could secure half his men from duty.

“Sir,” it was the duty ERA, who came a few minutes later, and he asked Sub-Lieutenant Nobody: “Request permission to shut down boilers.”

Question Number Two – even numbered question – so Sub-Lieutenant Nobody answered: “No”

The ERA nodded – looking quite perplexed – and he went away.

“See – you are learning fast...” Schoolie said as they sat for lunch.

While going ashore – Schoolie gave Nobody a parting shot of advice: “Always remember that it is better to keep your mouth shut and give the impression that you are stupid – rather than to open it and remove all doubt…”

Schoolie, a post graduate, was an Education Officer – the lowest class of officers in the Navy.

Education Officers were treated like dirt – and they wasted their entire lives teaching basic mathematics to junior sailors who didn’t give a damn – or acting as lackeys to senior officers wives – helping them run so-called welfare activities – which were more of ego-massage – and less of welfare.

Once in a while – the brighter among them got posted to ships – where they had no work except hang around in the wardroom doing nothing – and offering unsolicited advice to anyone who cared to listen.

Schoolie enjoyed doing talking to people – pontificating and giving advice on all matters under the sun – to anyone who cared to listen – especially to rookies – like Sub-Lieutenant Nobody – who latched on to each word he said.

It was indeed funny.

As far as the officer class was concerned – your status and position in the pecking order was inversely proportional to your academic qualifications.

The matriculate cadet entry seamen officers were the prima donnas

The Engineering Graduate “Techies” and Graduate Supply and Secretariat (S&S) guys were the middle rung.

And – the post-graduate “Schoolies” were at the rock bottom of the Navy status hierarchy.

“It is Port Control, Sir,” the “Yeoman of Signals” woke up Sub-Lieutenant Nobody from his beer-induced siesta and asked hesitantly, “they are asking if we want to come alongside.”

Nobody struggled to open his eyes and thought about it.

He counted the questions he had been asked so far – the first question by the Duty Petty Officer regarding 3 Watch System (which he had answered YES) – and – the second question by the Duty ERA regarding Shutting Down Boilers (which he had answered NO)

One, two, three – this was the third question – odd numbered – so Sub-Lieutenant Nobody decisively answered: “YES”.

“Thank you, Sir – I will signal them at once...” the delighted “Yeoman of Signals” said – and he rushed towards the bridge to make a signal to port control by Aldis Lamp.

Sub-Lieutenant Nobody followed the Yeoman to the bridge wings and watched him exchange visual signals with port control, both lamps frantically flashing.

“Ballard Pier...?” port control asked.

It was the fourth question of the day – an even numbered question – so Sub-Lieutenant Nobody assertively said: “NO”

And then – Sub-Lieutenant Nobody scrupulously followed the “Odd YES – Even NO” rule.

“Cold move?” port control asked – the sixth question – even numbered.

“No,” Nobody said decisively.

“Hot Move...?”

“Yes”

Everyone on the bridge was praising Sub-Lieutenant Nobody’s foresight in not allowing the boilers to be shut down – otherwise the quick “hot move” would not have been possible at immediate notice – and they would have to spend the whole day waiting for the tug to carry out the laborious “cold move”.

“Should we call for a harbour pilot...?” the duty Midshipman asked.

It was even numbered question – so Sub-Lieutenant Nobody emphatically said: “No”

“Sir, should I prepare the pilotage plan...?”

“Yes”

“Shall I chart course between sunk rock and oyster rock...?”

“No”

“Around Middle Ground...?”

“Yes”

“Will you be taking the con, Sir...?” the Midshipman asked.

“No”

“Then I will have the con...?”

“Yes”

The Midshipman was filled with happiness and a sense of pride.

It was the first time that someone had shown so much confidence in him.

There was no point hanging around the bridge and being exposing his ignorance, thought Sub-Lieutenant Nobody.

So Sub-Lieutenant Nobody told the Midshipman to take the ship alongside.

He then informed the Midshipman that he would be available in the wardroom for any advice.

Sub-Lieutenant Nobody then went down to the wardroom– he summoned the bar steward – and ordered a double large scotch whisky and soda.

He needed the alcohol fuelled “Dutch courage”.

His spirits high – fuelled by alcohol-inspired courage – and brimming with confidence – from then on – Sub-Lieutenant Nobody religiously followed Schoolie’s odd/even command formula with great success – and soon INS Bijlee was underway, sailing smoothly towards the Wharf.

As he sipped whisky in the wardroom – Sub-Lieutenant Nobody was quite clueless as he heard, on the main broadcast, the Midshipman give the conning orders: “Stand-by Main Engines…Haul Anchor…Anchor off the bottom…Anchor Aweigh…Anchor Coming Home…Anchor Sighted and Clear…Wheel Amidships… Dead Slow…Starboard Ten…”

Everything moved like clockwork – everyone knew their jobs.

Sub-Lieutenant Nobody also knew what to do.

In his mind – he had to keep a count of the questions they asked him – and quickly determine the question number – odd or even – and answer according to Schoolie’s “odd/even yes/no” formula.

For every odd numbered question – he said: “Yes”.

For the even numbered question – he said: “No”.

And – from time to time – when someone made him a report – Sub-Lieutenant Nobody would wisely nod – and say: “Very Good.”

It worked.

The simple “YES” “NO” “VERY GOOD” command formula worked.

Sub-Lieutenant Nobody strictly followed the formula – and everything went absolutely right.

The ship secured alongside perfectly.

Sub-Lieutenant Nobody realized first-hand that the Art of Naval Command was indeed breathtaking in its simplicity.

it was an odd numbered question – so Sub-Lieutenant Nobody said: “Yes.”

The broad smile on the Petty Officer’s face and the smartness of his salute said it all.

Sub-Lieutenant Nobody had mastered the Art of Naval Command.

The crew were happy to be secured alongside rather than tossing and turning at a faraway anchorage out at sea.

And now – thanks to Sub-Lieutenant Nobody – there would be liberty – and the ship’s crew would be able to go ashore to enjoy the delights of “Maximum City” after a long hard time at sea.

Sub-Lieutenant Nobody became the hot topic of discussion below the deck in the crew messes.

Each and every sailor admired the guts and initiative of Sub-Lieutenant Nobody.

They were impressed by his prompt and clear decisive commands.

Despite being a non-seaman officer – he had brought the ship alongside by taking effective charge of the Midshipman.

Never before had such a thing happened.

Never before had they seen a greenhorn Sub-Lieutenant demonstrate so much confidence and guts on his first day on board a ship.

Anyone else would have hesitated, dithered – but here was a decisive officer.

“He is a natural leader”– they all said – with awe and in unison – about

Sub-Lieutenant Nobody.

On his very first day on board this mighty warship, Sub-Lieutenant Nobody earned the admiration, respect and esteem of the crew of INS Bijlee.

The sailors were happy to have Sub-Lieutenant Nobody on board – and they showed it by their body language – especially in the way they saluted him.

Sub-Lieutenant Nobody’s chest swelled with pride.

Nobody had become a “Somebody”.

Story No. 2

STEALING AFFECTIONS –A MATTER OF HONOUR

“Stealing the affections of a brother officer’s wife?” thundered the Admiral.

The Admiral looked up from the paper he was reading, glared at Captain standing in front of him, and said, “Kaka, I have tolerated a lot of nonsense from your ship, but I not going to condone sexual misconduct.”

“He is innocent, sir” said the Captain, the Commanding Officer of the mighty warship INS Bijlee, the flagship of the Fleet.

Standing beside the Admiral, a bespectacled Commander with yellow lace between his stripes, the Judge Advocate General, called JAG, noticed that, though the Captain spoke in a soft voice, he looked at the Admiral, his boss, the Fleet Commander, squarely in the eye.

The JAG knew that Kaka, as the Captain was known throughout the navy, was ex-Dufferin, an officer of the old-mould, a tough cookie, unlike some of his more morally pliable counterparts.

The Captain looked a decisive, tenacious and determined man, with his broad square face, heavy-lidded eyes and the deep lines at the sides of his mouth.

The Captain never took things lying down.

And now he was taking on his boss, the Admiral, his own Fleet Commander.

This was going to be difficult.

“What the hell do you mean he is innocent?” shouted the Admiral, “that piddly dope-entry Sub-Lieutenant is caught red-handed screwing a Commander’s wife and you say he is bloody innocent? If he was so frigging horny he could have dipped his bloody wick elsewhere – there are plenty of fleet auxiliaries, so many opportunities all over, the dockside is teeming with sugar girls, come on Kaka, you know all this. If he was so bloody sex-starved he could have rogered a midshipman for all I care – but stealing the affections of a senior officer’s wife? It’s just not acceptable and I won’t tolerate it in my fleet.”

There was silence.

The JAG smiled to himself as he thought of the Admiral’s words.

In the navy it was all a matter of form.

The moral issue was a minor detail.

You could sow your wild oats elsewhere, but stealing the affections of brother officers’ wives was taboo, and if you got caught, you were thrown out of the navy.

“Sir, please listen…” the Captain broke the silence.

“No, Kaka,” interrupted the Admiral, “It’s final. I have spoken to the C-in-C. We are throwing the bugger out.”

He gestured to the JAG who gave him a folder.

The Admiral took out a typewritten sheet from the JAG, looked at it and exclaimed, “Nobody? Sub-Lieutenant Nobody? What sort of name is that? Is he a bloody ding?”

“No Sir. He is a bong. His name is an anglicized version of…”

“Doesn’t matter,” the Fleet Commander interrupted the Captain.

The Admiral gave the sheet of paper to the Captain, and said, “You just get his signature on this and personally give it back to me by closing hours today.”

“Resignation letter? You want him to resign his commission on compassionate grounds?” the Captain said, looking incredulous.

“That’s the best way,” the JAG spoke for the first time, “the C-in-C doesn’t want a scandal. He’s going to Delhi tomorrow and he’ll get the papers cleared personally. The C-in-C wants this officer out of the navy immediately. And he wants it done discreetly.”

“Yes, Kaka, you get his bloody signature, withdraw his ID card, throw him out of your ship, and put him on a train home today itself. I don’t want to see the filthy bugger on board when we sail out tomorrow,” the Admiral bellowed.

“Nonsense,” the Captain said.

“What?” the Admiral looked stunned.

“I am not a post office. I am the Captain of a warship, the Flag Captain, the Commanding Officer of the Flagship of the Western Fleet. You can’t punish a man without hearing him out. It’s against the principles of naval justice,” the Captain said firmly, raising his voice slightly for the first time.

“Justice my bloody foot,” roared the Admiral, “you get this straight, Kaka. The Commander-in-Chief desires that this officer is thrown out. I am your boss and the C-in-C’s desire is my command. Kaka, don’t be stupid. There is no point jeopardising your career for the sake that dodgy son of a bitch.”

“Sub-Lieutenant Nobody is my officer, Sir, and it is my duty to be fair and just to all officers and men under my command,” the captain said firmly.

“But the C-in-C has desired…”

The Captain interrupted the Admiral, and said bluntly, “The C-in-C is not above naval law. He too is subject to the Navy Act. I respectfully submit, Sir, that due process is followed, and the accused officer be heard, before you take a decision.”

The Admiral winced – he said nothing, and he looked as if he were in deep thought, as if he was weighing his options.

The JAG looked at the two sea-dogs, both tough leaders, but with contrasting styles, the profane hot-tempered volatile Admiral, and the steady soft-spoken Captain, who did not say much, but whatever little he said was sensible and relevant.

“Okay,” the Admiral said, “I will see the officer. Bring him to me as soon as possible.”

“He is waiting outside,” the captain said.

The Admiral smiled, “March him up to me in five minutes.”

“Aye, Aye, Sir,” the Captain put on his peak cap.

The Captain saluted smartly and walked off.

Five minutes later Sub-Lieutenant Nobody stood at attention looking at the Admiral sitting across the polished mahogany table.

His Captain sat on a sofa on the side.

“Where is the JAG?” the Captain asked.

“He’s not required. I don’t want any of C-in-C’s goddam spies eavesdropping,” the Admiral said to the Captain.

Then the Admiral looked at Sub-Lieutenant Nobody, and said, “You are accused of stealing the affections of Commander Kumar’s wife?”

“That’s not true, Sir, I did not steal her affections,” Sub-Lieutenant Nobody said.

“What the hell do you mean it is not true – you were caught red-handed trying to steal her affections,” the Admiral shouted.

“Sir – actually – in fact – it was not me – but it was she – it was she who tried to steal my affections,” Sub-Lieutenant Nobody blurted out.

The Admiral burst out laughing, “Are you some sort of crazy bugger? How the hell can she steal your affections? Tomorrow you will say that a woman can rape a man. Now, don’t give me bullshit. You are up the shit creek, so answer properly.”

“She was drunk, Sir. She wanted me – but I restrained myself.”

“Just tell me one thing, you dirty bugger – why the hell did you stay with her all night? The whole world saw you in there with her – the milkman, the maid, the chowkidar – and, of course, the bloody Flotilla Commander – he has even given a written complaint against you. And, remember, he is a Senior Commodore. It is your word against his – and, in the navy, the senior is always right.”

“Sir, he is the root cause of everything?”

“Root cause – the Commodore?”

“Yes, Sir – he is responsible for what happened.”

“I see – now you are blaming him for your troubles – can you please explain?”

“Sir, I was sitting in Club watching the May Queen Ball when the lady came to me and asked me to dance with her. I told her that I did not know how to dance. In fact I had refused Tanya earlier when she asked me for a dance.”

“Tanya?”

“My daughter, Sir,” the Captain said.

“I see,” the Admiral hid a smile.

Then the Admiral said to Sub-Lieutenant Nobody, “Go on. I am listening.”

“Sir, this lady – she pulled me on the dance floor – and this Commodore tried to cut in – and she told him to go away. The lady – she seemed quite drunk – and she seemed very nervous and frightened – she told me she was not feeling well and asked me to take her to her home on Marine Drive. So I took her in a taxi and dropped her home.”

“It seems a tall story – but suppose I believe you – you dropped her home – so that is when you should have left and come back to your ship. Why the hell did you stay on in her home?”

“Yes, Sir – that is exactly what I wanted to do – but as I was about to leave – the Commodore landed up – and he asked me what I was doing there – and he told me to get out. The lady asked the Commodore to go away – but he insisted on staying – so I asked him to go away – but he didn’t budge – so I pushed him out and I locked the door.”

“You physically pushed him out?”

“Yes, Sir – I had to push him out since he refused to go away on his own, despite the lady asking him to do so.”

“You knew he was a Commodore, a superior officer?”

“Yes, Sir – I know he is the flotilla commander.”

“Then what happened? Why didn’t you leave after that?”

“She asked me to stay. She was scared that he would come back. She said that the Commodore was eyeing her ever since her husband joined the flotilla. And now he had sent her husband away on a course and he was giving her unwelcome attentions – she said he was trying to seduce her – he wanted to sleep with her – she told me that he would come again if I left her alone – so she desperately asked me to stay.”

“So you stayed on to save the ‘damsel in distress’ – come on, young man – tell your story to the marines. You are making all this up to save yourself. I don’t believe any lady would tell a stranger all this.”

“I swear I am telling the truth, Sir – she was drunk, she was very drunk. She told me the Commodore had forced her to drink, maybe even spiked her drinks. I asked her why she went to Club with the Commodore if she knew his intentions and she told me that her own husband was forcing her to sleep with his boss.”

“What nonsense?”

“She said her husband was very ambitious and wanted to get promoted at any cost.”

“I don’t believe all this hogwash.”

“Sir, you will never believe what she told me next.”

“What?”

“She said that her husband is impotent – he is not able to do it.”

“So she wanted you to do it?”

“Yes, Sir...”

“And you did it...?”

“No, Sir. She tried her best – she pulled me towards her – and she kissed me. I did feel tempted for a moment – but I controlled myself immediately. Then we slept, Sir – and I woke up in the morning by the sound of the bell – and when I opened the door I saw the milkman, the chowkidar, the Commodore, and some others standing outside.”

The Admiral stood up, came around the desk, and put his hands around Sub- Lieutenant Nobody’s shoulders.

“Sit down,” the Admiral told Nobody, gesturing towards a chair.

The Admiral himself sat on the desk, and he said, “I have never heard such a tall story in my life, but I like your brutal frankness, and my inner voice tells me that you are speaking the truth. So I will make it easy for you – and for all of us. In the navy we have a thing called honour. We don’t like to wash our dirty linen in public. And the honourable thing for you to do is to put in your papers. I hear you are an IIT type. You will surely get a job – maybe a much better job than the navy. And if you do have any problem, we will help you out.”

The Captain watched in silence, intrigued at the sudden change in the Admiral’s demeanour.

Instead of his normal brash way, in which he treated subordinate officers like dirt, here, he was almost pleading to the Sub-Lieutenant.

He must be under real pressure from the C-in-C to hush up the matter, lest it blow up into a scandal.

The Admiral reached across his desk, picked up the typewritten resignation letter, and put it in front of Sub-Lieutenant Nobody.

Sub-Lieutenant Nobody read the letter, and said: “I will not resign, Sir – I love the navy – and I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Do you know the alternative?”

“Court Martial, Sir.”

“You will be charged with conduct unbecoming the character of an officer, conduct to the prejudice of good order and naval discipline, maybe even striking a superior officer, and if found guilty, you will be dismissed from the navy with disgrace and locked up in jail for at least three years. And from the evidence at hand – it looks like you will certainly be found guilty. So it is best for you to quit the navy silently, without any fuss, and the honour of the navy remains intact.”

“What about my honour, sir?”

“Your honour – are you crazy – you are up the shit creek – and you are talking of your honour?”

“Yes, my honour, and the lady’s honour. If I resign – it will be an admission of guilt.”

“But you are guilty.”

“I am not guilty, Sir – I did not do anything wrong.”

“Son, don’t be dogmatic. Take the easy choice.”

“Admiral, when they blamed you for that collision at sea accident many years ago, you too could have taken the easy choice, but you elected for a court martial, and you redeemed your honour…”

“Get out of here,” the Admiral shouted, suddenly getting angry.

Sub-Lieutenant Nobody saluted the Admiral.

Sub-Lieutenant Nobody then looked at his Captain sitting quietly on the sofa.

The Captain indicated with his eyes to Sub-Lieutenant Nobody that he should leave.

Sub-Lieutenant Nobody turned and started to walk away – but he stopped in his tracks when he heard the Admiral’s voice.

The Admiral said to Sub-Lieutenant Nobody: “You are up the shit creek. You better choose someone good to defend you at the court martial.”

1. These stories are fictional spoofs, pure fiction, satire, just for fun and humor, no offence is meant to anyone, so take it with a pinch of salt and have a laugh.

2. All stories in this blog are a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the stories are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.Dismiss

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No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

About Me

A creative person with a zest for
life, Vikram Karve is a retired Naval Officer turned full time writer. Educated
at IIT Delhi, IIT (BHU) Varanasi, The Lawrence School Lovedale and Bishops School
Pune, Vikram has published two books:COCKTAILa collection of fiction short stories about relationships
(2011) andAPPETITE FOR A STROLLa
book of Foodie Adventures (2008) and is currently working on his novel, writing short fiction and compiling his memoirs. An avid
blogger, he has written a number of fiction short stories, creative
non-fiction articles on a variety of topics including food, books, travel, philosophy, academics, technology, management, health, pet parenting, teaching stories, self help and art of living essays in magazines and journals and published a number of professional research papers and reviews and edited in-house magazines and journals for many years, before the advent
of blogging. Vikram has taught at a University as a Professor for 15 years and now teaches as a visiting faculty and devotes most of his time to
creative writing and blogging. Vikram Karve lives in Pune India with his family and muse -
his pet dog Sherry with whom he takes long walks thinking creative
thoughts.